Break Free
by MisterCreamPie
Summary: Ienzo is tired of being a social outcast. He's tired of all the stupid propaganda, and everyone turning into robots. He tries to be different, tries to break free from the same everyday routine, but being different isn't always acceptable. LexZex Zemyx
1. Chapter 1

**This was going to be a One-shot, but I kept adding onto it in my mind and I realized it was going to be WAY too long to be a one-shot, so I'm going to do this in /smaller/ chapters. :3 **

**I LOVE MY BETA-READER!**

Ienzo slowly entered his school. His parents were crying, the students were crying (even the younger ones who had no clue what was going on) the teachers were crying, even the principle. He closed his eyes, was he the only one that didn't care? Slowly, Ienzo crept up to his classroom, setting his messenger backpack on his chair. He sat down, waiting for the lesson to begin. The sobbing was giving him a massive headache. He saw his teacher eyeing him, her eyes digging into him uncomfortably. He quietly opened his English text book , crossing his small hands on the desk. When he realized there would be no lesson today, Ienzo decided to read something- anything. His silver eyes scanned over a sign on the door. "Miss Lockheart's second grade class."

The first thing he noticed below the introduction to the class was a picture of all the second grader's lovely smiling faces, not Ienzo's. His mouth was simply formed into a line. Apathy. He chuckled softly to himself. He shifted in his seat a bit, looking over to the 'Kreative Kid's Korner'. His apathetic expression turned into a slight smirk. _Oh Miss Lockheart aren't you just the clever one? Spelling 'Creative' and 'Corner' with a K. How original. _Ienzo looked over the board, it was filled with drawings and paintings of all sorts, done by his fellow students. He didn't feel the need to do something so menial, so he refused to. That gave Miss Lockheart quite a kick in the rear. She looked hurt that he didn't want to participate in the stupid creative assignment.

There was no reason for Ienzo to be creative; he just didn't care. His parents constantly worried over him, and sometimes his mother would cry. This only made Ienzo happy, in a sense. He wasn't exactly 'happy' more content with himself than 'happy'. Why? He wasn't all that sure. He is only seven years old after all. Ienzo never really felt anything, in fact he could never remember a time he was 'happy' or 'sad'. He never cried, not even when he was born. Ienzo was always intelligent, almost like he was born with it. Knowing so much, however, he could never feel happy. He never learned anything, and he always was quick to react. That was no fun at all. He fiddled with his pencil, watching it and it's intricate design. It was amazing, something as simple as a pencil was made up of millions...billions of atoms.

"Hey Ienzo!" The familiar voice made Ienzo cringed. It wasn't that he didn't like his mullet haired, white trash friend; he could just be rather...annoying at times. Yes, Edym was white trash. He came from a family of white trash, hicks, rustics, bumpkins, country dwellers. Ienzo wasn't being stereotypical, but Edym lived in a white trash neighborhood, in a white trash mobile home, with a white trash family. He was always dirty and only had about three pairs of clothes that were obviously handed down from his five brothers before him. Soon they would be passed down to his younger brother, and so on and so forth.

"Edym," Ienzo regarded. Maybe it was because Ienzo came from a smaller and more prestigious family, but Edym really knew how to get under his skin, even if it was unintentional. "I suppose you've come to ruin yet another...already partially ruined day?" Edym gave an obnoxious, almost seizure inducing chortle.

"Gee! No." He laughed hard, as if Ienzo had just made the funniest joke he had ever heard in his life. Ienzo rolled his eyes, _and so it begins. _"I was just wonderin' why everyone was cryin' so much!" he chirped. Ienzo cringed. "I mean when ya think 'bout it, there's somethin' awful terrible that must be happenin' though!" More cringing from the silverette next to Edym.

"You didn't hear?" Ienzo inquired, staring at Edym from the corner of his eyes. "Ansem the Wise was assassinated earlier this morning. Somewhere in Hallow Bastion, I believe." Edym feigned shock.

"Gee! That's awful close to Twilight Town!" the blonde gasped, hand slamming on the table loudly, drawing attention from the rest of the class, including the caterwauling Miss Lockheart. Ienzo looked around at the class uninterestedly.

"I suppose. Don't feign shock, though. You really don't care," Ienzo stated, pulling out a book from his messenger bag. He opened it and began to read, attempting to take his mind off of everything around him. Edym probably didn't even know who Ansem the Wise was. Though he hated to admit it, he and Ienzo were very similar. They were natural leaders, they spoke out, and they didn't care about anyone but themselves. They were social outcasts, maybe that's why Edym felt such a strong attachment to him. He needed to cling to someone that was like him, or be rejected by everyone else.

Ienzo recalled a certain ninth grader. His name was Braig. Braig was exactly like Edym and himself. He always tried to get people to hang out with him, doing whatever he could to fit in with everyone else. He was rebellious, however, so the other students wanted nothing to do with him. Ever since Ansem the Wise was discovered by the world everyone followed the governments propaganda. Apparently _He _was created by Ansem the Wise and _He _influenced the governments. _He _was a patriotic, yet peaceful man. _He _was well mannered and proper. _He _was kind, gentle, sweet, caring, perfection. _He _was the epitome of a perfect human being. _ He _didn't really exist. No one knew that except for a select few who hadn't been blinded by the government and Ansem the Wise. Ienzo, Edym, and Braig were a small fraction of those who were aware. No one even realized that _He _didn't even have a name. Idiots. Back to Braig.

Braig was a problem child. He came from a nice, well off family, but he didn't follow rules. Braig hated participating in school activities, and so he didn't. Then one day _they _came to their school. They took Braig to the councilors office and questioned him for hours. No one noticed Braig was gone except for Ienzo, Edym even noticed and he was a bit on the slow side. For some reason Ienzo couldn't stop thinking of Braig, and the next day when he came to school, he searched for Braig, but the teenager was nowhere to be found. Ienzo decided to confront Braig's teacher.

"Mr. Strife?" Ienzo asked, keeping a calm apathetic expression. "Where is Braig today?" Mr. Strife, accompanied by Mr. Fair, stared at Ienzo before nervously glancing at Mr. Fair. Mr Fair simply frowned, then smiled almost hypnotically.

"Ienzo, dear, Braig did not meet or standards and he was moved to a different...more suitable area." Mr. Fair gave a gut-wrenching grin, it was almost sardonic like he was some kind of sadist. Ienzo tensed up slightly, not from fear, but...from something. Definitely something.

"Did you put him in solitary confinement?" Ienzo inquired, remaining as calm as possible. Mr. Fair smirked, ruffling Ienzo's hair. He had a secret. Definitely had a secret.

"You'll find out one day, Ienzo. You will."

Mr. Fair had a scary way of remaining calm and happy, yet cynical and oppressing. Ienzo couldn't help but wonder where Braig was taken. Maybe he was killed. Yes, that must be it. People who weren't right for the economy, or a threat to the now peaceful world, were killed. Ienzo wasn't positive this was it, but he had a strange feeling in the pits of his stomach.

"Gee Ienzo, you thinkin' real hard!" Edym noticed. "What you thinkin' 'bout?" Ienzo looked over at him, slightly taken aback. He was worried for himself, Edym too, he supposed. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, then he tensed up again, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Edym, did you do your own hair today?" Ienzo inquired, "or did your mom do it for you?"

Edym blinked, such a strange question. "Er...I did it myself...why? Do ya like it!?" he asked excitedly, running his fingers through his hair. He looked quite proud of himself, in fact.

"We're screwed..." Ienzo whispered softly under his breath, though he didn't seem too distressed.

"What?" Edym asked.

"Nothing."


	2. Chapter 2

Miss Lockheart approached Ienzo and Edym's desk. Ienzo continued reading his book while Edym watched, seeming absolutely fascinated with the other. Miss Lockheart took a mental note of every little move they made, every glance and every word they said. She stopped in front of Edym's desk and looked at him scornfully, while trying to regain her composure from crying rivers.

Edym looked up. "Miss Lockheart?" he questioned, watching her as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose in a small white handkerchief, her initials sewn in exquisite golden letters. Miss Lockheart finally calmed herself down, then looked back down at Edym. She crouched in front of his desk and frowned some.

"Edym," she said softly, her voice still shaky and quavering. "Why aren't you crying? Why aren't you sad...?" Edym looked at her conspicuously, blinking.

"Why am I supposed to be sad? I don't get why everyone else is sad too. What's going on?" Edym inquired, giving his genuine 'I'm innocent, really I am' look. Miss Lockheart smiled as if realizing something. She put her hands on Edym's, looking at him with sad brown eyes.

"Edym. Ansem the Wise was assassinated." Miss Lockheart shook and wiped her eyes as tears streamed down once again. She hiccuped and sniffed simultaneously, starting to softly sob again. Edym watched her nonchalantly, still confused as ever. He tilted his head to the side a fraction.

"Who cares?" he asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. Miss Lockheart looked up, the tears halting immediately. She blinked her damp eyelashes against her creamy flesh and stared at him, mouth open wide. It looks like she was waiting for flies to occupy the open cavity, or something. She kept watching him incredulously, Edym was beginning growing anxious with fear. What had he done wrong!? Ienzo peeked over his book and watched them. He couldn't lie, he was worried for Edym's well-being. _They _are going to take him now.

Miss Lockheart stood up, "Edym!" she scolded. "Ansem the Wise was our only hope. He was sent from the father above to save us! He was going to stop the war, and make everything right. Like it's supposed to be." Edym's eyes flickered open and closed. He was still extremely confused, quite obviously. Miss Lockheart watched him, waiting for a reaction. Nothing.

"I don't get it. One person can't suddenly make a difference in the world. We can't rely on some self-proclaimed man of god to come and suddenly stop all the war, malice, and destruction. It takes the world working together as a whole, compromising and helping each other. It's our job as a powerful and rich country to help the lesser countries, as well as it's the other country's jobs to help us if we need help."

Miss Lockheart had this glint in her eye that told Ienzo she was restraining from slapping Demyx across the face. She grabbed his hand, pulling him out of his chair. "Edym. I'm going to take you to the councilors so you can talk to them." She didn't happen to notice how Ienzo's grip on his book unintentionally tightened up. _Oh god forbid we have a free thinker in the world._ Ienzo thought. Behind his book was a worried looking Ienzo. Edym was the only person that was like himself. He was the only person Ienzo could really call a 'friend', even if he was annoying and obnoxious.

When he heard his name he looked up. Edym looked back at him and smiled, waving. "Bye Ienzo! See you later!" he giggled innocently. Ienzo blinked, waving back slowly.

"Yeah...bye..."

**--**

Ienzo was worried...no, that was an understatement. He was terrified. What if he never saw Edym again? What was he talking about; he didn't like Edym. He was annoying and obnoxious and sweet; he was also naive in the most adorable way. _Maybe I don't hate him..._

He looked up from his text book, immediately spotting the dirty blonde. Something was terribly wrong, though. Edym was actually clean. His skin looked a shade lighter, which meant he might have actually gotten a bath and kept himself clean afterwards for once. He was wearing nice, new clothes, and his atrocious hairstyle was not there. His hair was down, and gelled neatly, so it stayed out of his eyes. This was not Edym.

Maybe Ienzo had been staring too long, or Edym could just sense something was wrong, but whatever it was Edym approached Ienzo. "Why are you looking at me like that?" the blonde inquired, blinking his sea green eyes. He had a fake, and creepy smile on his face. In fact, it reminded Ienzo of Mr. Fair's smile.

Ienzo suddenly remembered Edym had asked him a question. He smirked. "Edym, don't you mean something along the lines of 'Why're ya lookin' at me like 'at'?' Ienzo smiled, laughing at his own joke, apparently it was supposed to be very funny, but it wasn't to Edym. He just looked at Ienzo and tilted his head to the side.

"You look like something from a horror movie," Ienzo said under his breath. "Edym...what'd they do to you?" he asked, almost seeming like he was sad for his friend.

Edym smiled conspicuously wider, even if it seemed impossible. "_They _helped me see that I was very sick. Now I'm much better. I'm no longer sick, Ienzo." Ienzo looked scared, and it was genuine. Ienzo was mostly apathetic, and he never felt concern or worry, but now...

Ienzo furrowed his brows, "Edym! What happened to the world working as a whole!? Only we can make the world a better place!" Ienzo kept his voice low, so Miss Lockheart would not hear him. He grabbed Edym's hand and looked worriedly at him, "Edym. Only we can help the people revert back to how it's supposed to be!" he breathed.

Edym pulled his hands away, "Sorry Ienzo...I can't go against the law. I'd rather just be normal. You're too weird. If you decide to be normal again, then you can talk to me." Ienzo's eyes went wide; he almost looked like he was going to cry. He couldn't help but think of what his mother had once told him. _You never know how much you love something until..._

"Until it's gone," Ienzo laughed coldly to himself. He sat down, holding his face in his hands. It was weird, he felt...something, yet he didn't feel anything. He looked up, watching as Edym played with Aeris, Yuna and Leon. They looked like they were having fun...drawing pictures.

Ienzo gritted his teeth and stood up; he refused to fall into the metaphoric chasm that he was being shoved towards. He'd help Edym out of the chasm and then they'd make everything right. He was determined, but determination was unacceptable in this stable routine based world. Ienzo almost missed the wars, and the hungers. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs when someone he knew died; he wanted to be able to complain and whine like a snobby child; he wanted his mom and dad to hit him when he did something bad.

He hated this new world. Perfection was driving him crazy. He was positive it was driving others crazy as well, others that were like him.

Miss Lockheart walked over to Ienzo, crouching in front of his desk. She spoke to him softly, her silky black hair swaying slightly. "Ienzo, don't you want to play with other children?" she asked, looking at him with big browns. Ienzo stared back at her, keeping an apathetic face the entire time.

"I don't want to play with the other children," he said simply. Miss Lockheart smiled softly and put a coloring page on Ienzo's desk, giving him a box of colored pencils.

"Would you like to color by yourself then?" she asked softly, watching him intently. Ienzo looked down at the picture. He pulled out a black colored pencil and smirked, faking it into a happy smile. Miss Lockheart smiled and stood up, watching him for a moment before walking off. Ienzo looked up, then back down on his paper.

"Oh yes, I know just how to color this." He took the black colored pencil tightly in his hand, then rapidly began pressing the pencil into the paper, making the pencil crumble. He smirked more as black got all over his nice tan/yellow desk. He walked to the 'Art and Crafts Box' and pulled out a red bottle of paint. He popped open the cap and squeezed the bottle, the red contents spilling into his hand. He ran to the walls of the classroom, rubbing his hands all over the nicely organized walls.

Miss Lockheart looked up from her desk when she heard the screaming of the children from the classroom. She gasped and herded the children to a safe corner, while watching Ienzo with horror. He ran around, destroying things. Miss Lockheart hastily ran to the phone. "H-Hello? Help!" she yelled. In no time flat two rather large men ran into the classroom. They were two of the five nurses that worked at the school. One grabbed Ienzo and held him tightly. Ienzo thrashed wildly, trying to get away. He screamed and wiggled around like an undomesticated animal.

The other man held a syringe in one hand, and a bottle of greenish blue liquid in the other. They walked out of the classroom slowly, trying to get Ienzo to give up. The silverette refused to stop himself. He gave out a loud shriek then began screaming.

"I'm not a robot! You can't control me!" the boy screamed. "I'm not a number!"

Edym looked up from where he had been shoved to by Miss Lockheart. Suddenly he felt like he had been slapped roughly in the face by realization. "Ienzo!" he yelled, trying to get past Miss Lockheart who was barricading the children. "Ienzo! I believe you!"


	3. Chapter 3

8:51

"He looks young. I deduct he must be around the age of seven, maybe eight. Are you writing this down? I'm not going to repeat myself!"

"I'm writing as fast as I can! Hold on."

"Write faster! Skin, pale. Eyes, silver. Hair, blue. By the look of the intense face he makes while he's asleep, I'd have to say he's a leader, much like myself, angry. Nobody understands him, and everyone is out to get him, in his own personal opinion, that it. He looks smart, clean, he was probably rich. Name is..." The silverette moved some hair from his eyes, reading the name tag on the boy's white gown. "Zexion."

"Uh...Xemnas..sir..." Saix looked up from his pad of paper, golden eyes clouded with curiosity. "Why did you ask me to write this?" Xemnas looked up at Saix, gritting his white teeth while his brow furrowed.

"Because you are the only one that I can trust around here, and you are my beloved side kick, that's why!" Xemnas snapped, standing to his full height. He was around six feet, obviously much taller than the blue haired male, named Saix.

"I'm dyslexic," Saix said, throwing the pd on the floor, only to show it was empty and white, glowing compared to the dark cell. Xemnas sighed and shook his head, looking back at the boy that was passed out leaning against the cold stone wall of their cell. Xemnas could tell that Zexion was slowly beginning to open his eyes.

A few noises were muttered from the boy's mouth before his eyes fluttered open and he gasped loudly, standing up and looking around frantically. "Edym? Edym!?" Sudden realization washed over him. He wasn't in his normal clothes, he had no clue where he was...a jail cell? Maybe...

Xemnas leaned back against the wall, watching Zexion move around so frantically. "So, Zexion, what're you here for?" Amber eyes, clashed with silver ones, and the bluenette stopped in his tracks, trying to register this whole ordeal he was caught in.

"Me?" Zexion asked, pointing to himself. "I'm...my name isn't Zexion. My name is Ienzo," he explained, putting a hand on his chest for dramatic affect. He looked down as his fingers brushed over a rougher material. It was a thick cloth nametag sewn onto his gown. "Zexion...but...that's not my name...what's going on!?" Zexion's voice was demanding, cold, and agitated. "Where's Edym?!"

Xemnas closed his eyes, thinking for a moment. His mind processed the name; Edym. Mix the letters, add an X. He snapped his fingers. "That was easy! Demyx." The silverette got up and walked over to another seven year old. He was wearing a gown similar to Zexion's, and it had his name. The only thing was that Zexion was clean, and Demyx's face was brushed with random spots of dust and dirt.

The boy's face was relaxed, calm, serene. What's new about it? Zexion wondered. Nothing. He's always tranquil like that. Zexion walked over to Demyx, lightly slapping his cheek. "Edym. Edym wake up," his words were soft, still demanding, however. Demyx's face slowly came to life and his mouth moved slightly, his lips curling into a grimace. He opened his eyes, revealing his crystal orbs of blue.

Zexion sighed in relief, doing something he was not accustomed to doing. He hugged Demyx slowly, sighing in relief as he allowed himself to relax. "They got you...it's all my fault...I'm sorry, Edym." Demyx looked at Zexion sympathetically, and he vigorously shook his head.

"It's fine. I don't blame you," Demyx whispered. "I'm happy I get to be with you, Ienzo."

"I'm not Ienzo, and you're not Edym anymore. We're Zexion and Demyx." Zexion frowned and watched Demyx's expression. He seemed unphased, if not a little confused.

"It's okay...I don't care about anything, because I'm gonna be with you all the time," Demyx explained, holding Zexion's hand while he kept a stupid grin on his face. Zexion smiled and nodded, standing up to stretch. Xemnas and Saix seemed to hve disappeared...hiding in a dark corner. Zexion didn't take much time to think about it; he was too busy basking in the comfort of his friend, until something dreadful happened. A pair of large hands were wrapped around his waist and he was lifted, hosited over the shoulder of a strong male nurse.

"You're switching cells." That was all the nurse hd told Zexion. The silverette reached out to Demyx, iterating his name. Demyx ran after the nurse, trying in a futile attempt to get Zexion back, but the door to his confinement was slammed in his face. He clutched the bars, yelling after Zexion, throwing himself against the bars.

--

Zexion was brought to a cell that was darker than the last, colder, more empty. The bas were thicker, and the furniture minimal, it looked so obviously uncomfortable. "You can't do this!" he yelled. "You can't treat us like this! We didn't do anything wrong!"

Of course, he was ignored.

Another man joined the nurse, he was dressed in red bandages, and a cape, plus other expensive, over-decorative decor. He listened to Zexion's protests, his face contorting into a terrible smirk. Zexion's attemtps to schmooze the nurse into letting him go was rather amusing.

"Relax, boy. We're just setting you in with a crowd that better meets your standards," the man dressed in red explained, that smirk still plastered on his creepy face.

Zexion looked at the man, then opened his mouth and started to scream. He screamed until his voice was threatening to go raw, but he didn't let it. He was a manipulator, of people and of himself. he wouldn't allow his voice to go out.

The nurse nearly threw Zexion into the cell, grimacing as he ontinued to scream at the top of his lungs. He turned to the man in red. "What are your orders, DiZ?"

"Let him scream. His voice will become raw. He can't scream forever." DiZ waved off the nurse, then dismissed himself, walking away in long strides. "He can't scream forever." he assured himself.

--

"It's been two...fucking...hours..." Vexen covered his ears, doubling over as Zexion's screaming threatened his ears. He looked over at Lexaeus, frowning. Things weren't the same as when Lexaeus and Vexen first arrived in this cell as Even and Elaeus. Elaeus who was once talkative and cheery, was now depressed and quiet. They changed him, and Even would get his revenge for sure. He would avenge Elaeus. He swore it. His attention turned back towards Zexion. The boy was getting on his nerves.

Lexaeus finally looked up from his puzzle, two pieces of cold, polished metal. He walked over to Zexion, sitting across from him. He leaned closer, looking at Zexion's closed eyes. He smiled softly, reaching out to pet Zexion's head. Zexion's screaming ceased and he looked up, staring into Lexaeus' deep blue hues.

Lexaeus smiled at Zexion, patting him on the head affectionately, before standing back up and walking to the bench of their cell, working on his puzzle once more. Vexen watched Lexaeus intently, "There he goes. Working that magic smile of his," he muttered, resting his chin in his hand.

Zexion ran a hand through his hair, blinking softly in slight confusin. There was something in that smile...


End file.
